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Animal House
There's help for pets who have gone to the dogs
By Shari Kaplan
Darting among towering evergreens and craggy oaks, the pack of barking dogs rushes through the misty forest, down a hillside and over to the remodeled house that was once a general store and gas station serving the rural mountain community of Laurel, now part of Los Gatos.
Standing anywhere near the cacophonous canines, it's difficult to hear oneself think, and would-be trespassers can forget about ever passing this way undetected! It's not difficult, however, to hear what the dogs are thinking--at least not for the slim, smiling woman walking in the midst of the fray, where any two dogs put together probably weigh more than she does. Not limited to simply hearing them, she is proficient at seeing and feeling their thoughts and emotions. It's as natural to her as breathing.
Like a modern-day Dr. Doolittle, Los Gatan Angeline "Angie" Siegel has an uncanny knack for understanding animals, not just her and husband Bruce's six dogs and two cats, but everyone else's as well. (She's also great at interpersonal communications with humans.) Unlike Doolittle, however, Siegel does not make small talk with a long-necked Push-Me-Pull-You, or sing--as he does--of "conversing with a chimp in chimpanzee."
This doctor has more important things to do.
Although she has not yet received her Ph.D.--she's completing it at the clinical psychology program at the California Institute of Integral Studies in San Francisco--"Doctor Angie" is as good a title as any for someone who, at 30-something, has already dedicated many years of her professional life to helping companion animals--mainly dogs and some cats--overcome serious behavioral and emotional problems.
She calls herself a companion animal therapist and has been filling this niche with Bay Area "house calls" for about six years, combining knowledge gained from a two-year apprenticeship in clinical animal behavior with an honors undergraduate degree in psychology, her own life experiences with animals and her intuition and empathy.
"Angie's said that she's not all human and she's not all dog--she's kind of stuck in between. But in my opinion, I think she's all dog!" laughs Kathryn Taylor, a veterinary technician at Los Gatos's El Gato Veterinary Hospital. The hospital has referred several clients to Siegel, and Taylor herself is a satisfied client.
Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
Kathryn Taylor, a technician at El Gato Veterinary Hospital, sought Angie Siegel's help when her dogs Bart, left, and Boone weren't getting along.
"Her knowledge is so incredible, I'm dazzled by it. I've been doing this [vet tech work] for 13 years, and at that point you think you've seen everything, but I've never seen anyone do what Angie does with animals. The passion is there, and that makes everything so much better," Taylor says. Taylor sought Siegel's assistance with Boone, her 2-year-old golden retriever, who was a bit rambunctious and had trouble getting along with Taylor's other dog, Bart.
"He was so anxious to please, but he didn't always know what to do. He didn't know how he fit in with the family and with our older dog," Taylor recalls.
"Angie taught me how to teach him that he has a choice--positive versus negative attention. Within a week it was like having a new dog," she says, adding that at the time, she was going through a stressful period herself. Until Siegel came along, Taylor didn't realize her strong emotions were having a stressful effect on Boone.
Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
El Gato Veterinary Hospital technician Kathryn Taylor's dogs Bart, left, and Boone.
Unlike Boone, some animals' roads to recovery are longer and peppered with many twists and turns. So, too, was the road that led Siegel to this profession in the first place.
"I grew up telling everyone I wanted to be a veterinarian. From day one, I knew that's what I was going to be!" says the San Francisco native. At first, that is where Siegel appeared to be heading, having held volunteer and part-time jobs as a veterinary assistant and technician as a teenager. It seemed a natural fit for someone whose childhood was filled with years of caring for a veritable zoo of mice, cats, rabbits, dogs, birds and turtles.
After graduating from high school, Siegel studied pre-veterinary medicine at Cal Poly, Pomona, with the intent to transfer to UC-Davis for post-graduate work and a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree. Around her second or third year, however, she says she had "major ethical dilemmas" surrounding the care and treatment of the animals on which pre-veterinary students studied.
She says she also realized veterinary medicine's focus on primarily the physical aspects of an animal's health was a little too narrow for her taste; she favored more of a holistic approach that included an animal's mental and emotional well-being. Taking a hiatus from school, Siegel returned to vet tech work and reconsidered her future.
For a time, Siegel participated in puppy-development training classes run by a Bay Area trainer, but those techniques didn't quite jibe with her, either. They placed too much emphasis on dominance versus submission and the physical aspects of behavior modification. At the same time, her own dog, a malamute named Ishka, was having serious problems of his own controlling his aggressive desire to be "top dog" among his peers.
"That began my journey of trying to find out how to deal with this, without turning to euthanasia. Just because an animal has a major issue in their life, you don't have to turn around and kill them," she says, relating how many clients tell her she's their last resort before putting their problem pet down.
"I thought, if I'm going to figure out the workings of the animal mind, I'd better go into psychology," she says of her decision to earn a degree in that field from Temple University in Philadelphia. Further bolstering her confidence that this was the right path, Siegel ended up receiving the American Psychological Association's Undergraduate Research Award and was also elected president of the Temple University chapter of Psi Chi, the American Psychological Association's Honor Fraternity.
Siegel gained further experience upon graduation as an animal behavior assistant at the Animal Behavior Clinic in the University of Pennsylvania's veterinary hospital, where she conducted outpatient clinical behavior evaluations of companion animals, set up behavior modification plans, helped teach the diagnosis and treatment of a range of problems and collaborated with outside veterinarians.
After settling back in the Bay Area--first in Woodside and then in Saratoga before finding her Los Gatos mountain home--Siegel worked at a ranch in Los Altos Hills with a therapeutic horseback-riding program for mentally and emotionally challenged children. She also served as lead program instructor for the evaluation of medically fragile children at Saratoga-based special daycare program Scribbles and Giggles and as a clinical psychology assistant for a Bay Area pet-loss support group.
Throughout all these endeavors, Siegel was slowly building knowledge, experience and clientele for companion animal therapy, which is now her primary practice. This is not, she explains, the goofy cliché of a pampered Hollywood pooch reclining on a couch while it and its owner pour out their woes to a "pet shrink." Siegel's methods focus more on simplicity, which she has found is often the most powerful instrument in bringing back clarity and perspective to a situation.
She usually works in conjunction with her clients' veterinarians to develop a treatment plan that incorporates behavior modification, homeopathy and psychopharmacology tailored to each animal. She also spends time talking with each animal's owner and other family members, which helps her discover what other stressors or problems may be contributing to the animal's behavior.
"We're so similar [to animals] in many ways that it's sometimes difficult for humans to understand. Animals and humans both have social systems, language, intonation and body language. The animals we live with pick up all these things as thinking, feeling, emotional beings," Siegel says.
"The family and the animal both learn to respect and 'talk' to each other. The people often have to work as hard as the animal," she adds of her clients.
Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
Saratogan Paul Gillespie gives treats to his dogs Roxy, left, and Reno. Gillespie turned to Siegel for help in understanding Roxy's suspiciousness and hostile behavior.
Two of those clients are Saratogan Paul Gillespie and his "problem child," a 2-year-old Jindo named Roxy. Jindos are medium-sized, Korean hunting dogs known for their agility, endurance, intelligence and extreme loyalty to one owner. They are also known to be suspicious of strangers and aggressive toward other dogs.
As a puppy, Gillespie says, Roxy loved attention from everyone. As she got older, however, "I think she became a little too attached to me and no one else," he says. Although Roxy would show curiosity toward meeting Gillespie's friends and family, she often sent out mixed signals. She'd let them pet her or play with her, but then seemingly had a change of heart--evidenced by growling, snapping and even biting.
Gillespie tried some behavior modification techniques, but they didn't work. His vet suggested putting Roxy to sleep, but Gillespie wasn't ready to give up. One reason he had hope was based on the way Roxy sometimes got upset or scared after seeing how her actions hurt a human.
"Angie was very perceptive in picking out certain traits in Roxy the first time she met her," he says. "She told me about how dogs can get confused about what people's intentions are when they reach for them. Sometimes it's the smarter ones, like Roxy, who get the most suspicious."
"I'm a technical person by degree; I don't usually go on faith with most things," Gillespie says, but adds that after just a few sessions with Siegel, he was impressed with both her practical suggestions and the intuitive and psychological abilities that come so easily to her. Although Gillespie and Siegel still have a ways to go with Roxy, Gillespie says he already sees positive changes and is happy and relieved to have finally found an approach that's bringing results.
Los Gatan Martha Stockton Alderson was also happy with the results Siegel helped her achieve with her golden retriever/rott-weiler mix Mara, who had some behavioral and emotional issues from puppyhood.
"We worked through things and tried to do them through Mara's point of view. I opened a whole new door to the way Mara and I communicate. Also, now I see and understand dogs in a whole new light, and I don't think I can ever go back," says Alderson, who is a historian, genealogical researcher and published writer.
"Angie's so low-key that I've probably learned even more by watching her with her own dogs than by what she's told me," adds Alderson of the Siegel pack, which consists of Electra, an 11-year-old Labrador retriever/Rhodesian ridgeback mix; Koda Bear, a massive 5-year-old Akita/St. Bernard mix; and Big Girl, Lizzy Bear, Harry Bear and Wolfie Bear, the puppies (now huge dogs) Koda had three years ago with Rascal, a Burmese mountain dog/border collie mix who lives down the road.
Angie Siegel's friends and clients all say she has an intuitive understanding of animals. Big Girl, one of her six dogs, agrees!
Photograph by Kathy De La Torre
Alderson and Siegel's relationship grew from business to friendship. Alderson brings Mara and her other dog, a German shepherd-mix named Jodie, on outings so they can have "play dates" with Koda. The women also are collaborating on a book titled The Zen of Fido. Despite its "New Agey" sound, Alderson says the book is a fun and easy-to-read reference that expands upon a dog's many developmental stages and explains how and why owners must relate to their dogs in terms of body, mind and spirit to have the most rewarding relationship possible. The women are now seeking a publisher.
But with or without The Zen of Fido, "Doctor Angie" will still be around to help bring the reward back to those relationships.
"It's never boring work!" Siegel says with a smile, adding that all animals and humans are unique, and she loves helping them to help themselves.
"When I've gone through all the baggage the animal is buried under in order to reach them, they're usually so depressed or stressed that it's rewarding to see that little glimmer in their eyes--like a light at the end of the tunnel."
For more information about Siegel's practice, call 408.353.3611.
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Los Gatos, California Since 1881
